


What Shaped Us

by MeganBenoit



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganBenoit/pseuds/MeganBenoit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote a serious short story on Disassociative Identity Disorder for school, and decided to twist it to fit into Ryan Haywood's 'life'. This is not to be taken seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Shaped Us

When I was a little kid, I would read all the time. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Alice in Wonderland and The Secret Garden were among my favourites. I would imagine myself as the mischievous Tom, the brave and whimsical Alice, or the down-to-earth Dickon Sowerby.

I would immerse myself in their persona, sometimes spending full days as them. I was no longer Ryan Haywood. I’d act like them, eat like them, and I would even change my voice to match theirs. Sure, I got some strange looks from bigoted relatives as I paraded around in a light blue gown, rambling on about mushrooms and rabbits, but I was having too much fun to care.

But, when you grow up, having multiple personas is less than adorable.

At age eight, I was diagnosed with MPD, or Multiple Personality Disorder. I also have a mild case of schizophrenia, although my therapist says it’s more or less harmless. I can’t tell you what exactly happened to trigger my trauma, as I’ve found that I’ve blocked it, but, erm…. BMVagabond can explain it.

So, um, yeah – hey! That’s when I was born. I’m BMVagabond, and Ryan would tell you that I’m a slightly delusional triggerhappy freak stuck inside a PC gamer’s body. I come out whenever the kid’s in danger, and, not to toot my own horn, but I can kick some serious ass. Not a lot of people like me, I can admit. Partly my fault; I have no interest in friends nor to pursue romantics. The only time I really crave companionship is when I’m drunk. I really do adore my liqueur. Both fortunately and sadly, that makes me more violent. Ryan describes me as ‘Bruce Banner hulked out 24-7’.

As for Ryan’s trauma, I remember seeing a man, wearing a duck hat, holding a gun. I remember…. A lot of blood. Think the movie Kick Ass with that grody microwave blood explosion. It was gory, to understate it. Then, I remember seeing my- I mean, Ryan’s mum, her limbs cocked at impossible angles, a bullet hole straight through her temple and –

My lord, these boys are rather descriptive, aren’t they? They’re going to end up scaring you poor dears. After that horrid night, I can remember Ryan waking up in a place he didn’t recognize, stripped down to his nickers; sirens whirling outside and red and blue lights flashing before his eyes. There was a police man gentle shaking him awake, telling him that he was safe. He was rushed over to the hospital and checked all over for injuries. There were many, but I won’t go into detail and traumatize you all. Cattle prods were used; I suppose I may tell you that. 

And the sight of blood, for dear Ryan, was too much. It still does to this day. The gent can’t deal with looking at it – the putrid sulphur, the red sticky residue, and the above all, the memories that follow. Any encounter with it, and let me tell you, when your brain learns to split, it does it far easier the second time. I was born, and I really have no idea where the boys would be without me.

My name is Mad, and I am, truly a father to these boys. I dress BMVagabond’s gashes after his heists, make chicken noodle soup when the body is sick, brutally murder those that bully Ryan and then basically plan out his entire work schedule. I don’t mind it, of course. While I find them to be rather tiresome, I can’t help but love the boys; they’re my family – my children.

Erm, hey. Ryan’s back again. Mad had to leave; he was getting quite emotional. So, time went on, and despite BMVagabond coming out every once in a while in public, I was a fairly normal middle-aged guy. Sure, I went to therapy every second day, and was bullied by my coworkers every other. But really, it was okay. The bullying never really bugged me. BMVagabond was always there to back me up if it got to rough, so I could just shut off and not take the brunt of it all. When I would wake up, I’d be at home, the gashes and wounds mended by Mad, and the body getting some well-deserved rest.

So, I’m not alone. I’ve got BMVagabond, I’ve got Mad, and life is alright. I know I can’t ever truly escape the horrors of my past, but I’m content with allowing my alters to deal with it. 

Now, here, before me, is a small box my grandparents packed up for me the night of the trauma. I think I’m gonna make a list so I can show Mad and BMVagabond later. I mean, there isn’t a lot in here…

\- A couple year books  
\- Some baby clothes  
\- Wedding vows  
\- Throwing knives  
\- A packet of cards  
\- A duck hat

Wait, who are you?  
Where the hell did Ryan go?  
BMVagabond, dear, stay back, I’ll handle this.  
Who the hell is this guy?  
Hi! I’m Duck Hat Guy. Can we play golf?


End file.
